Sight of Love (A Rizer Pack Shifter Series Book 2)

by Wilson, Amelia

  “What would happen if I drank one of those?” she asked.

  He was surprised by the question. “Why would you want to?”

  “Would it make me stronger, so I could face them better when they come? You’re not leaving me behind this time.”

  He considered her for a long moment, then said, “No. I’m not.” He opened the chest again. “If you drink the dreyri, your mortal half will die. You will become all Draugr. Is that something that you are willing to do?”

  Her answer was to step forward and pull a vial from the chest. She uncorked it and brought it to her lips. It was cold and congealed, deeply unpleasant and tasting of iron and salt. She swallowed it all.

  Her stomach convulsed, and then she was filled with agony and ecstasy like she’d never known, a braid of conflicting sensations wrapping around her heart. She reeled backward, dropping the empty vial and staggering away from the chest. Erik went to her and caught her in his arms, holding her tight through her transformation.

  Her mind was a violent sea of images, memories from a dozen lifetimes combined with the sudden awareness of the goddess within her soul. She shuddered and shook in her lover’s arms, and then it was over.

  She looked at Erik and saw him with new eyes. He was surrounded by a halo of light, golden and white, just barely visible but definitely there. It was an aura of power and magic, and she gasped when she saw it.

  “Take it slow,” he coached. “You’ll adjust if you give it a moment.”

  She took a slow, steadying breath. Her senses were sharper than before, and she could sense the ebb and flow of magic emanating from the Rune Sword. She pulled out of Erik’s embrace and went to the sword.

  Slowly, as if she were sleepwalking, she pulled the sword free from its wrapping and held it in her hand. It seemed to throb in her grasp. The soul stone glimmered in its setting, and she could sense the seething rage of the entity trapped within it.

  She remembered. She remembered everything.

  “To reanimate Hakon, they need to sacrifice one of the Valtaeigr. Only our blood will be enough to power the ritual.”

  “The only Valtaeigr here are you and Astrid, and I can guarantee that she’s not the one they’re going to use.”

  “What is Sigrunn?”

  “She’s only Draugr.”

  She stroked the Soul Stone. “What does Astrid stand to gain from changing sides?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea.” He watched her warily. “Unless she means to ally the Valtaeigr with the Draugr instead of with the Huntsmen.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We need to get Hakon’s body back and destroy it. That’s the only thing that will end this nonsense.”

  She held the sword out to him. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Fifteen - Destruction

  They waited until daybreak, when the Draugr would be at their weakest. Erik drove while Nika held the sword in the passenger seat. All of his guns had been loaded with silver bullets, and he was ready to fight.

  Nika was less secure, but she felt stronger now than she ever had in her entire life. She could feel the pulse of the earth beneath her feet, the radiating heat of the sun, and the watery flow of life all around her. Deep within her, she could feel the links that tied her spirit to Erik’s, and when she began to feel too nervous, she would touch them for comfort.

  The closer they got to the house, the more the Soul Stone hummed. She could practically feel its vibration traveling through the pommel of the sword, trembling in her hand. The soul inside the gem knew that they were approaching his body.

  While he drove, she asked, “Tell me about the Valtaeigr.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “You said that they were magic users, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think I can use magic?”

  He considered it for a moment. “I’m sure you have the ability. You’d just need to be trained.”

  She liked the sound of it. “Do you know where I can get that training?”

  “Yes. In Sweden. The queen of the Valtaeigr can teach you.”

  “Is that Astrid’s mother?”

  “Aunt.”

  She hesitated. “And is she my – Berit’s – aunt, too?”

  “No. She is your sister.”

  Nika looked down at the sword. “When we get there, what should I do?”

  He clenched his jaw and turned onto the road leading to the house. “Stay behind me and watch your back. Can you shoot?”

  Sheepishly, she replied: “I’ve never even held a gun.”

  “Well, I’ll teach you. You should learn.”

  The house looked innocuous when they pulled into the driveway, but he knew that the inhabitants were waiting for them. He had long abandoned any thoughts of stealth or secrecy. He parked the car, and they both got out.

  Erik armed himself with multiple guns, replacement clips, and the Rune Sword. As soon as he took it into his hand, it shimmered with the green light from the runes on the blade, which once again were shifting and reordering themselves.

  He didn’t take the time to read the runes, but Nika did. “It says ‘beware betrayal.’” She looked up at him. “What’s making it do that?”

  “The power of the Valtaiegr,” he answered, “in connection with the Aesir. It is responding to the fact that we are together now.”

  He handed her a canister of gasoline, matches, and an automatic pistol.

  “Point it at the bad guys and squeeze the trigger. Just shoot. Even if you don’t hit anything, you’ll keep them guessing.”

  She took the weapon uneasily, but nodded to show that she understood. He spontaneously kissed her.

  “May the gods be with us.”

  “They will be.” She didn’t know where her confidence on the point came from, but it was sincere.

  They went into the house, Erik holding the sword ahead of him. Its glow filed the little mud room with a greenish light, making everything look surreal. He headed directly down into the basement.

  The hörgr was still standing, but this time the ruined remains of Hakon were resting on its surface. Three robed Draugr stood between the altar and the statues of the gods, standing guard. They looked up in unison when Erik and Nika entered the chamber.

  They were all male, and they all displayed their fangs in threatening grimaces. One of them spoke.

  “You are the last Huntsman.”

  He twirled the sword at his side, limbering his wrist. “For now.”

  Nika pointed the gun at the Draugr and pulled the trigger. Her shots went wildly off the mark, but one of them ducked. The other two charged at Erik, arms raised, hand axes at the ready.

  He swung the sword so quickly that the blade hummed through the air. When it touched the charging Draugr, it flared brilliantly. They screamed as they burst into flame, ignited by the power of the sword.

  The two Draugr burned into ashes almost immediately, immolating like flash paper. The third attacked next, but Nika opened fire again. This time she hit him, and the silver bullet ripped into his arm. He shouted a virulent curse and threw his axe at Erik, but the Huntsman deflected it with the sword.

  The sound of laughter filled the room, and they heard a scurrying sound above their heads. Nika looked up and saw Sigrunn, scampering across the ceiling like a spider. She dropped onto Erik and began wrestling with him for the sword.

  Nika pointed the gun, but she was too afraid that she would hit her lover, so she held her fire.

  “The body!” Erik shouted to her. “Destroy it!”

  She ran to the altar and poured the gasoline over the corpse. In the sword, the Soul Stone flashed, momentarily blinding the two combatants. She emptied the can over the body, and just as she was about to light a match, someone grabbed her from behind.

  “Don’t even think it,” Astrid hissed into her ear.

  She gripped Nika’s wrist like a vise, squeezing i
t until the bones ground together. She dropped the matches and screamed, “Erik!”

  Her cry distracted him, and in that moment, Sigrunn was able to take the Rune Sword away from him. She kicked him in the face and moved back, standing over him with the point of the sword resting against his chest.

  The magic in the sword hissed and burned, but Erik did not retreat. He glared up at his opponent and held his ground, even as she pressed the blade harder against him. It cut through the fabric of his shirt and punctured his skin, drawing blood to the surface.

  Astrid chuckled. “What have we here? A little mortal Vataeigr and a useless Veithimathr, come to disrupt the return of our master?” She snarled at Erik. “Get up… husband.”

  She had one hand on Nika’s throat, her fingers wrapped around her windpipe, ready to tear it free. Erik obeyed.

  “Sigrunn, put him on the altar.” She backed away, pulling Nika with her.

  Sigrunn forced him onto the altar at sword point, prodding him to lie beside the ruined husk of Hakon’s body. Once he was there, she bound him into place with chains at his hands and feet. He could have feinted for the sword, but Astrid’s hold upon Nika was absolute. He couldn’t risk it.

  When she was confident that she had bound him securely, Sigrunn took the sword to Astrid. “The vessel is prepared,” she said.

  “No!” Nika cried. “You can’t use him as a vessel. He’s already carrying the Aesir!”

  Astrid hissed in her ear. “Silence, you stupid cow. We are all carrying the Aesir. It’s time that we stopped being their slaves and took our power in this world.”

  She struggled in the other Valtaeigr’s grip, resisting as much as she could. Astrid tightened her fingers, driving them into her throat. Nika gagged, and Erik looked into Nika’s eyes, shaking his head ‘no.’

  She fell still.

  In her head, his voice whispered. Can you hear me, Chosen?

  She took a deep breath. Yes.

  Excellent. Do not be afraid. There is more to us than Astrid knows.

  Sigrunn brought the sword to Astrid. “Shall I free the stone?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you doing?” Nika demanded. “This is insane!”

  The female Draugrs ignored her. With the point of a dagger, Sigrunn pried the Sálsteinn loose, hissing as it burned her hand. She put it on the altar.

  Astrid dragged Nika forward, forcing the wrist that she held toward the jewel. “Take up the stone,” she commanded.

  Erik closed his eyes and began to speak silently to himself, his lips moving rapidly though no sound was coming out.

  Reluctantly, Nika did as she was told, gathering up the stone in her hand. It glowed fiercely, but there was no pain as she wrapped her fingers around it. Sigrunn stepped toward Erik’s head and held him fast, prying open his jaws.

  “Put it in his mouth,” Astrid told her.

  Nika clenched her fist around the stone. “No.”

  Astrid shook her. “You cannot protect him now. If you obey, you may still save yourself.”

  She did not want to live without Erik, and she fought against Astrid as the other Valtaeigr pushed her closer to the altar. She managed to slow the speed of their approach, but she could not stop it all together. Astrid brought her hand above her lover’s mouth.

  “Drop it in,” she said.

  Erik closed his eyes and stopped fighting Sigrunn. His body relaxed, as if he had accepted his fate. Nika began to weep.

  “Drop it!”

  Do not fear for me, Chosen, he whispered in her head.

  Nika sobbed and opened her hand. The stone dropped onto Erik’s tongue. Sigrunn forced his mouth shut, holding it closed with both hands.

  “Swallow it, Huntsman,” Astrid ordered him. “You are going to die anyway. At least die for something.”

  The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and Nika wailed in Astrid’s grip. Erik’s eyes flew open, and he began to convulse, his muscles shaking and rattling the chains against the altar.

  The body of Hakon began to shiver.

  The Draugr retreated, opening space around the hörgr. Erik’s mouth and eyes flew open wide, and white light began to pour out of him, deepening the scent of burning. He began to scream, and Nika joined in, horrified by the scene.

  Behind her, Astrid laughed.

  Hakon sat up, his desiccated flesh creaking as he moved. His eyelids opened, revealing shriveled eyes that turned sightlessly toward the man beside him. He leaned over Erik until he was lying atop him, his mouth above his, and he began to suck in the light, channeling it all into his lifeless body.

  Erik’s body began to rise into the air, levitating above the stone slab of the altar. The chains at his wrists and ankles snapped.

  “It’s working!” Sigrunn exulted. “Now, quickly – the blood!”

  Astrid’s fingers tore into Nika’s neck, and her blood sprayed onto Erik and the revivifying form of Hakon, the Lord of the Draugr. She screamed in agony and terror. The room began to shake.

  Erik began to shout, “Odin! All-father! I call you – NOW!”

  The statue of Odin, the most powerful Norse god, shuddered and exploded. A man’s body made entirely of green light appeared where the statue had been, and he grasped Hakon in both hands.

  The mighty form of Odin’s avatar pulled Hakon off Erik’s body, rending the Draugr king in two. Astrid and Sigrunn screamed and threw themselves onto the ground, prostrate before their deity. Nika fell to the dirt beside them. Her throat was wounded, but she was very much alive.

  The light that Hakon had swallowed came rushing back out, and this time it filled Erik until he shone so brightly that none of them could look upon him. Odin’s avatar shredded Hakon into pieces.

  Nika pressed a hand to her throat and scrabbled up onto her feet. Astrid let her go. Beneath her fingers, she felt heat spreading through her injury.

  Let me help you, child, a gentle female voice said in her head.

  She could hardly have resisted. From a space deep within her, the same one that had exulted at becoming Erik’s chosen mate, a power deeper than any she had ever felt radiated outward. She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer, and then her body was no longer her own.

  She felt her arms extending to the sides, palms up. That suffusing heat in her throat extended down into her solar plexus then through her entire body, filling her to overflowing.

  She thought she could hear rain. Warm, salty droplets fell upon her upturned face, and she knew that what she was hearing was not rain at all, but blood. She could not open her eyes, could not even move. Her mouth opened.

  The blood filled her mouth, and the newborn vampire within her swallowed eagerly. She felt power in the blood, felt it coursing through her veins. She felt her hands turning, slowly, until the palms were facing out flat.

  The power pushed out of her then, and she could feel it connecting with a similar wall of might coming from Erik. Their soul passengers, Ithunn and Vidar, had broken free, and the two gods now entwined in that cellar room, disembodied lovers entwining. Everywhere they touched, they gained strength, and it pulsed back into Nika and into Erik.

  She heard women screaming and knew that it was Astrid and Sigrunn. She could feel them bursting into flame on either side of her, blazing like giant torches, flailing as their deaths overtook them. Their fires rose and conjoined, becoming a giant pillar of flame, setting fire to the room and to the house above them.

  The papier-maché oak trees burned. The statues of the gods lit, too, and the heat was stunning. She could not move, could not step away from the burning fire. The flames wrapped around her, but she found herself enclosed in an embrace that protected her from harm.

  The house burned around them, and the as Draugr burned, too. The fire spread from the house, immolating everything around. The ground sizzled and the trees snapped and popped as they went up in smoke. Everything was burning, and she was in the center of the conflagration – though she was not harmed. The inferno raged, but
she clung tightly to the arms that held her, recognizing Erik. They stood united against the firestorm, untouched, united.

  Abruptly, it was gone, and Nika was standing beside the altar, wrapped in Erik’s arms. The stones of the hörgr had cracked in the immense heat, but on the splintered slab, the Rune Sword rested, the Soul Stone back in place.

  The house was gone, and they stood in the bottom of the hole that had once been the cellar. The ground was scorched around them in a perfect circle, the damage stopping just short of the stable on one side and the road on the other. Their car was a pile of melted scrap, and in the stable, the horses were frightened but unhurt.

  Erik took her face into his hands. “Beloved, open your eyes.”

  She was almost too afraid to do it, but she obeyed. He was standing there, nearly glowing in the power that emanated from his soul, his body perfect and unmarred. His chest was adorned with a new tattoo, a giant, stylized owl with wings that spread from one shoulder to the other, talons clutching two runes.

  She clung to him. Although their clothing had burned away, their skin was untouched, and they were complete.

  “How… what…”

  He did not answer. He bent down and claimed her mouth in a kiss. She leaned into him, accepting him, and in her mind, she could hear him say, I choose you, now and forever. I choose you for all time. My love, my love… do you choose me?

  She said it aloud. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  He took her into his arms and held her tight. She embraced him and, overwhelmed by everything she had experienced, she collapsed.

  Chapter Sixteen – The Chosen

  Nika woke up suddenly in her own bed, lying in Erik’s arms. She sat up in confused disorientation and pressed a hand to her feverish brow.

  Was it all a dream?

  She looked at her sleeping lover, and the owl tattoo across his chest told her that it had all been real. She touched the two stones inked into his skin, reading the Elder Futhark runes that were written there. One was Uruz, the other Thurisaz.

  She identified the meanings of the runes. Masculine energy. Sexual potency. Regeneration.

  As she looked at him, she realized that she, too, had been marked by the sacred fire. Runes were tattooed into both of her inner arms, and she identified Perthro and Sowilo.